


Leviathan

by Notaricon



Category: Dream Daddy: A Dad Dating Simulator
Genre: Boat Sex, Breathplay, Character Study, Choking, Depression, Dom/sub Undertones, Drabble, Explicit Language, F/M, Infidelity, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Multi, Oral Sex, Praise Kink, Undefined Dadsona, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-02
Updated: 2017-08-02
Packaged: 2018-12-10 07:44:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11687160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Notaricon/pseuds/Notaricon
Summary: Joseph had never been a very good person. That didn't mean he couldn't envy those who were; that he didn’t know it and see it and even, sometimes, want it for himself. That was just what Joseph did: he wanted. Sometimes he even wished. Always; always, hetook.Whenever, whatever he could.Call it a bad habit. He was a repeat offender.Envy and hunger can make a monster out of any man.





	Leviathan

**Author's Note:**

> Anyway, here's Wonderwall.

Joseph had never been a very good person. That didn't mean he couldn't envy those who were; that he didn’t know it and see it and even, sometimes, want it for himself. That was just what Joseph did: he wanted. Sometimes he even wished. Always; always, he _took._  Whenever, whatever he could.

Call it a bad habit. He was a repeat offender.  
  
Mary had come first, more contrary than the rhyme by far and entirely aware of the joke. _Mary, Mary;_  she'd never had a garden because she'd never cared for things with roots. She was too brilliantly free for that, with the sea in the salt of her hair and the sway of her hips and the bite of her every word.  
  
_Oh_ , and in the taste of her when he'd nosed between her slim, pale thighs and pulsed his tongue against the hot, wet core of her. He'd never been much for women in the abstract, really, but there were things in Mary that he’d never had and never would and he wanted to drink them from her body. Every last drop. He spread the folds of her sweet, slick cunt with his thumbs and licked into her, and she was firewater musk in his mouth and on his lips and down his chin when she came.  
  
She'd called him _sailor_ when he'd rested his head on her breast because he had been one, back then. Because he wanted to be, wanted to be somebody's sailor, wanted somebody to like (maybe love) him as rough as he was; his rope-burn red and his bitten bruises and his striving, ever striving, toward a fleeting white-sand paradise. Good old Margaritaville.  
  
Mary had her garden now. Give and take.  
  
He'd never lacked self-awareness. He knew no one could ever love him enough to be enough for him. No one ever had and no one ever would, and that was a dull ache somewhere east of his stomach. His love didn't stick, especially not to him – it rolled out like a wave.  
  
So then there'd been Robert.  
  
Robert had that same spark Mary somehow never lost, but in a body that appealed more straightforwardly to Joseph's interests. Robert was bleeding inside in a way he could almost relate to. Robert bit and scratched just as hard as he did. He let Joseph put marks on him the way Joseph needed to, some more lasting than others.  
  
“I have kids,” Joseph told him.  
  
Robert swallowed his cock like water and drew back with a slow, sucking sigh. He didn't even look up. Joseph liked that.  
  
“I have a wife,” he added.  
  
“I don't kiss and tell,” Robert said.  
  
But he sure did kiss.  
  
Robert and Mary loved each other more than they loved Joseph now, and that was nobody's fault but his own.  
  
The new neighbour was different, he thought. Awkward yet earnest. Coltish and fumbling like he'd never grown into himself. At peace in a way that Joseph desperately wanted and couldn't quite stand. He had sweet eyes and a sweet mouth and Joseph wanted to eat him alive.  
  
“You act like our life is perfect, but you want every side piece you can get, don't you?” Mary had said. She'd caught him looking – of course she had. She knew what to watch for.  
  
He had it down to a science, now. The humour, the easy charm, and just the right number of furtive, longing glances. A lonely man trapped in a troubled marriage with a bitter wife. It was unsalvageable, Joseph told him. He was living on the yacht until it was all sorted out. He was thinking about what brought him happiness.  
  
None of it could really be called a lie. Lying was one of the things he tried not to do.  
  
He'd come apart so perfectly when Joseph kissed him, touched him, carried him to bed. He'd let himself be spread open and tied down and fucked until his toes curled and his eyes misted over, surrendering himself completely as they rocked in time to the boat and the sea. He came when Joseph closed his hands around his neck, shaking and sobbing and clenching so _tight._

“That's good,” Joseph had whispered, breathless. “Honey, sweetheart… You've been so good for me.”

He couldn't help but go under with him.  
  
The man went and clumped in with Mary and Robert, after, solemn and red-eyed. Together, Joseph watched them form a knot made of all the things he'd ever tried to take. There was no room for him there, now.  
  
After all, Joseph had never been a very good person.


End file.
